


This Speck Of Sand

by CallieB



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 17:54:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15345306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallieB/pseuds/CallieB
Summary: Once upon a time, legendary actor Rumford Gold took a chance on humble extra Belle French, and with that, he kickstarted her career as an actress. Ten years later, he's a bitter divorcee, his star on the wane. Belle has an opportunity to repay the kindness he did her - but it's up to him to drop the villain's role he's so used to playing and take on the romantic lead...Requested byRipperBlackstaffwho wanted a Rumbelle Actors AU.





	This Speck Of Sand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RipperBlackstaff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RipperBlackstaff/gifts).



> Thank you so much for the request, [RipperBlackstaff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RipperBlackstaff/profile)! I had so much fun with this story, and I really hope you enjoy it. The title is taken from [this](https://twitter.com/actor_quotes) amazing quote by Jim Carrey!
> 
> I am still taking prompts - for details about what I write, please see [this post](https://13callieb.tumblr.com/post/175621387463/sooo-money-is-tight-money-is-tight-for-everyone). 
> 
> Enjoy!

****Belle’s spacesuit is uncomfortably tight. It’s made out of white spandex, clinging to her body in all the right places so that every time the camera swings her way it can capture the shape of her hips. Apparently, this is the uniform that every woman will be wearing on-board exploratory spacecraft in three thousand years, along with the delicate white buttoned boots that somehow remind her of the Victorian era.

It’s also giving her one hell of a wedgie. 

“Who designed these?” she moans out of the corner of her mouth for the seventh time. Ruby, beside her, giggles a little. She’s wearing the same costume, except that somehow she manages to make it look graceful with her long lithe form. Belle feels like sausagemeat stuffed inside its casing.

“This was your idea,” Ruby reminds her, which is true. Belle’s always dreamed of being an actress, was always the first person to volunteer in every school play. She was the one who found the casting calls for extras in the local paper, and she was the one who convinced Ruby to come along with her.

Not that it took much convincing. Ruby isn’t really into acting the same way that Belle is, but she loves trying new things. And she definitely loves the idea of having her face on the big screen, even if it’s just for a moment or two.

They’re standing behind large grey and white monitors, pretending to type furiously away at the intricate and complex keyboards in front of them. There are about ten extras lined up, but Belle knows that later, fifty more will be digitally inserted, giving the impression of an enormous control room with dozens of diligent futuristic employees. She and Ruby are actually quite lucky to be some of the actual bodies on screen at the moment.

Of course, they’re only in the background; the cameras are centred on the only people in shot who aren’t wearing white. Emma Swan, her famously expressive face twisted in anxiety, stands opposite Killian Jones, discussing the impending meteor attack. Belle’s heart gives a slight jolt every time she sees them; Emma Swan was a child actor in one of her favourite shows growing up, and seeing her in the flesh has left Belle completely starstruck. Emma is only eighteen, just two years younger than Belle herself, and already she’s a huge household name.

She has less to say about Killian, who has a bit of a reputation in the gossip columns and so far, hasn’t done anything to convince Belle of his innocence. She’s seen him flirting with half a dozen dazzled teenage extras already. She supposes he’s conventionally attractive, with a rakish smile and dark hair arranged in an artfully untidy manner across his slender face, but he’s so far from being her type that it’s difficult to see how anyone could be taken in by it all. Of course, he’s pretending to be as much a teenager as Emma in the film, but he’s actually twenty-five, in the prime of life, and he knows it. Even now, he sweeps a hand dramatically through his hair, and Belle swears she can hear the off-screen swoon of nearly every woman watching.

In a moment, the hero and heroine will be interrupted by the prowling entrance of the film’s villain, and that’s something that really does set Belle’s heart thumping. Rumford Gold, an absolute legend, in the flesh! Belle hadn’t even known that he was in this film when she applied to be an extra, but she’s trembling at the thought of seeing him act in person for the first time. She’s seen him once or twice in the distance, but he hasn’t had any scenes yet, and he keeps himself to himself on set.

Ruby heard through the grapevine - she always manages to find gossip, wherever she goes - that his wife and son have been staying in his trailer recently, so he’s taken himself out of the usual social circles to spend time with them. It’s so unexpectedly sweet to hear about a big-time Hollywood actor behaving in such a faithful and romantic manner towards his family, especially since Belle knows that Rumford and his wife have been together since they were teenagers. Their son, Neal, was an unplanned surprise when Rumford was just nineteen years old, but they’ve stuck together through a teenage pregnancy, through Rumford’s rise to stardom, and even now that he’s one of the most well-known onscreen villains of all time, he still takes time out just to be with his family.

Of course, most of what Belle knows has come from magazines and her own romantic speculation, but she doesn’t think she’s far wrong, considering Rumford’s behaviour on set so far.

She keeps glancing over to the large double doors at the edge of the set. That’s where he’ll come in. He’s a legend, acting since before Belle was born, and she’s about to see him - about to meet him--

The doors slide open. Later, the editing team will add in a hiss of steam to make it sound more authentically futuristic. Belle’s supposed to be typing furiously, but she can’t help but glance up. There are the knee-high black boots, with just the tiniest heels so that they click impressively as they stride across the shiny floor. There is the tight maroon spandex clinging to his body, with a belt cinched around his waist. There is the swishing black cape framing his shoulders.

Rumford Gold. Killian Jones pales into nothing next to him. Belle can’t help it; she’s frozen into place, staring at him. His grey-brown hair tucked behind his ears. His sharp eyes, roving around the room. The artfully placed line of stubble on his jaw. In spite of herself, she feels a frisson of _something_ dart through her belly.

He walks in as though he owns the set, owns the room, and there’s a power emanating from him that Belle is sure everyone can feel. He’s not Rumford Gold anymore; he’s the villain of the piece, something to be feared, the foiler of plots. They say that every film he acts in he transforms into something deeper than it was meant to be, gives life to the flattest of co-stars, makes the dullest of lines riveting. He hasn’t spoken yet, hasn’t interacted with anyone, hasn’t done anything except walk into a room, but Belle can feel it. He’s a master at his craft.

Emma and Killian turn as he enters. Killian’s face immediately twists in a wrathful snarl, and Emma flinches visibly. “Drayton,” she says in a hard voice.

Rumford doesn’t acknowledge her. Belle is mesmerised by the way his hips move when he walks, the tap of the cane he’s holding on the floor. He strides straight over to Killian; he’s a little shorter than the other actor, but Killian takes a step backwards anyway. Belle wonders if it was voluntary; Rumford’s glare is visibly imposing, even from where she’s standing.

“You’re a fool,” Rumford says, his voice sharp and full of barely contained anger. “It was your idiocy that brought us into this meteor shower.”

“Don’t you--” Emma gasps in indignation. Belle’s eyes flicker briefly over to her, but then come straight back to Rumford. He taps his cane impatiently on the floor.

“You can deny it if you want, but I know what you were doing when you were supposed to be in the control room yesterday,” he says softly. He glances between the two of them. “Our fearless leader,” he continues in a low sarcastic drawl. “All you really are is a boy.”

Killian puffs up his chest. Belle knows he’s supposed to be the hero, but she can’t help but smother a smile at his self-righteousness. “You’ve never supported my claim to the captaincy!” he exclaims. “You, who supposedly swore to protect my father through thick and thin!”

“Your father, not his ignorant bairn!” Rumford snaps back. His eyes rove once more around the room - and catch Belle’s.

For a moment, her breath catches in her chest. His eyes are a deep, expressive brown, and it’s like she’s lost in them - like all the magnetic force that makes him such a great actor is directed at her. She smiles, all thoughts of continuing with her part forgotten; if the fate of the starship rests on her frantic typing, then they’re all going to die.

He has the tiniest smile on his face as well, curving his thin lips even when he’s supposed to be in the midst of catastrophe.

“Belle!” Ruby hisses, jabbing her in the side, but luckily the movement is missed, because at that exact moment there comes the cry of: “Cut!”

Belle comes to herself; Rumford isn’t looking at her anymore. She turns to Ruby. “What?”

Ruby raises an eyebrow. “What was that about?” she asks, grinning. “Does someone have a crush?”

Belle blushes, but declines to answer, turning instead to where the actors are standing more at ease. Killian gives Rumford a light shove to the shoulder; he’s flashing his famous pearly whites. “Never know the infamous Rumford Gold to freeze mid-scene,” he teases. Belle bristles a little at his tone. “What, did you forget your lines or something?”

Rumford glances stonily down at Killian’s hand on his shoulder; Killian removes it. He says, calmly: “Or something.” His accent seems exceptionally pronounced. Belle shivers, not unpleasantly.

“From the top!” the director yells. She sounds impatient, but then she usually does; Belle’s learned to find Regina Mills somewhat intimidating. Rumford turns away from Killian and Emma; as he does, his eyes capture Belle’s again. For the most miniscule second, he pauses; Belle smiles.

Rumford winks, just the tiniest flutter of his eyelid. Then he whirls away with a swish of his cape, to run the scene again.

Belle manages to keep herself more composed during the next take, and they finish running the scene with her eyes fixed firmly on the fake computer screen in front of her. Rumford continues to be spectacular; in Belle’s view, he absolutely steals the scene, turning it from a stilted teenage space drama to a deeply introspective emotion-led story. She has to force herself not to look at him, her head bowed to her task, because even the sound of his voice makes her heart jump. He’s an incredible actor.

Afterwards, they call a break; Belle heads straight for the back door. She needs some fresh air. She’s seen interviews with Rumford’s former co-stars where they talk about his mesmerising intensity, and now, even as an extra in just one of his scenes, she feels like she knows what they meant. And yes, maybe Ruby’s right: she _does_ have a bit of a crush. How can she not? It seems laughable that anyone could watch a scene like that, hear the power and raw emotion dripping from every carefully chosen word Rumford said, and come out of it without being just a little in love with him.

Outside, it’s just beginning to rain, a light patter that makes the air pleasantly cool. Belle stays underneath the cover of the sheltered smoking area, watching the clouds moving across the sky above her. Fortunately, no one else is out there, so she doesn’t have to contend with the smell of cigarette smoke.

The trouble with being in a room with someone like Rumford while he’s working is that it makes her doubt her own ambitions. She’s always wanted to be an actor, for as long as she can ever remember, but how can she possibly compete with that kind of raw talent? Right now, she’s just an extra, completely disposable, and if the director finds out that she’s the reason Rumford was distracted she might well lose her job. She wants to be as good at her craft as he is, wants to inspire audiences the way he does, steal the show, be so utterly believable as her character that it emanates from her the way his character does from him.

“Hello.” She jumps at the softly spoken word, whirling around - and there he is. Rumford Gold. Still dressed in his futuristic finery, and somehow, incomprehensibly, standing outside in front of her.

Her hands fly to her mouth. “Oh,” she says, blushing. “Hi.”

His mouth twitches in amusement. “Hello,” he says again. He glances around. “Out here alone?”

“Yes,” Belle says foolishly. Then - she can’t help it - she says in a rush: “You were amazing in that scene.”

Rumford smiles. “Thank you,” he says. He grins suddenly, and she’s struck with the wolfish expression. “You were a little distracting.”

“I’m sorry,” she says immediately. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be - I’m just such a fan, and I thought you were so amazing--”

He holds up his hands. “It’s alright, dearie,” he says, his lips rolling over the letters. “I was joking.”

“Are you… enjoying the filming?” she asks hesitantly.

“Truthfully…” He sighs. “It’s not the best thing I’ve ever been a part of.” He shrugs, an overexaggerated gesture, and Belle giggles. “I enjoy filming in this part of the world. It allows me to stay closer to my family.”

Belle nods. “I heard they were staying with you,” she says. “Your son?”

“He must be around your age,” Rumford says in agreement. “He’s eighteen.”

“I’m twenty,” Belle says quickly, and then feels her cheeks redden again. Why did she say that? Somehow, it feels very important that Rumford should know that she’s not just some foolish teenager, that she’s older than his son, that she’s not a child.

He acknowledges the point with a nod. “I’m thirty-seven,” he says, his tone suddenly oddly uncertain. He frowns a little, looking down at her. Belle is conscious of how little she is, without her usual heels to boost her up. “Do you want to be an actress?” he asks.

“Yes,” Belle says, so instantaneously that Rumford’s mouth twitches. “I’ve always wanted to act.” She swallows. “I don’t think I could ever be as good as you.”

“Why not?” He seems to think it a genuine question.

Belle waves an expansive hand. “You - I don’t know, you command the room! It’s incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it. I could never perform the way you can.”

“I play villains,” he points out. “Perhaps that won’t be your role, but that doesn’t mean you can’t find your own.”

“I could play the villain!” Belle protests, but she’s smiling. It feels amazing to have such a talented performer support her dream, even if he’s never seen her act. And he’s right: she doesn’t want to be the villain of the piece. Truthfully, she wonders if he could be more than that role as well, although it seems to be one he likes to play.

Rumford laughs. “What’s your name?” he asks.

“Belle,” Belle says. “Belle French.”

“A lovely name,” he says, and she dimples. “Don’t doubt yourself, Belle.” He smiles. “One actor to another, take my advice. Don’t doubt yourself. If you want to act, and you’re willing to work at it, there’s no reason you can’t succeed.”

“Th-thank you,” she says. She’s feeling somewhat overwhelmed. “Honestly, thank you. That means more than I can say.”

He shrugs. “Why don’t you prove it to yourself?” he says. There’s an odd smile on his face. “Prove that you can do it.”

Belle frowns. “What do you mean?”

An hour later, Belle isn’t wearing her white spandex costume anymore. She’s not standing behind the computer monitor next to Ruby either. Ruby is still there, though, a wide encouraging grin on her face as she looks across at Belle. Belle, who’s wearing a green costume that denotes her one of the superior officers on-board the spacecraft, her hair bound up behind her head and a piece of well-painted polystyrene that’s supposed to represent her digital clipboard under her arm.

“Rumford says you’re good, so you must be,” Regina says crisply. “You still don’t matter, though, so don’t assume this is your leap into stardom. You have three lines, and all you have to do is say them at the right time. Understood?”

“Yes,” Belle says. She should feel more nervous, and somewhere inside herself she does feel nervous, but drowning her nervousness out is a deeper sense of rightness. This is what she loves; there’s a sudden confidence inside her that Rumford’s words have only strengthened. She’s still completely overwhelmed that he suggested her for this tiny role, but she knows she’s right for it. She’ll prove to him, and to herself, that she’s not crazy for having this dream of acting.

At this point in the film, Rumford’s character is crafting a plot to take over leadership of the space station from Killian’s heroic captain. Belle, an innocent officer, is about to become a pawn in the plot, responsible for spreading a fabricated rumour to bring Killian down. Standing opposite Rumford, Belle can well believe that her character would be taken in. She feels as though she would believe anything he said.

She only has three lines, but she delivers them with every bit of finesse she can manage. She draws her character from deep inside herself, imagining the concern she would feel if the rumour Rumford is telling her were true, the outrage, the shock. She lets her body lead the way, feeling the role, small as it is, coursing through her. Rumford is hypnotic, magical in his delivery, and she lets herself respond naturally to the energy emanating from him.

When Regina calls for an end to the scene, she’s breathless with excitement. Rumford smiles. “That was very good,” he says appreciatively. He doesn’t sound surprised, as though he always knew she would be a good actor. “Perhaps that’s all you need to take you where you want to go.”

“Perhaps,” Belle says. Then, daringly: “Right now, I don’t want to go anywhere except here.”

Rumford laughs. “And here you are,” he says.

Regina’s sharp voice interrupts them. “I don’t think we need another take of that one,” she says brusquely. “Rumford, take five. You--”

“Belle,” Belle supplies helpfully.

“Belle,” Regina repeats more slowly, her head tipped to one side. “Not bad, Belle,” she says. “Not bad at all.”

*

_Ten years later_

“What do you mean, he’s dropped out?” Belle’s voice is uncharacteristically impatient on the phone. She’s got her car keys in one hand and a large black shopping bag over the other wrist, the cell phone pressed between ear and shoulder. Her heels are too high, and she’s far too hot. Her sunglasses are sliding down her nose, and her agent has just delivered an absolute bombshell. All in all, she’s not having a good day.

“I know, I know, Belle,” Merida says. “I couldn’t believe it either, but apparently his mother is back in rehab and he has to be closer to her, or something.”

“Oh, God,” Belle says, immediately feeling terrible for being annoyed with her erstwhile co-star. “That’s terrible.”

Merida makes a non-committal sound. “Well, sure,” she says. “But it leaves you without a male lead two days before filming is supposed to start, and honestly the studio can’t afford another setback. They’re talking about walking.”

Belle stops in her tracks, the car keys clattering out of her hand and onto the pavement. “What? Surely they can find someone else?”

“Belle, they’ve tried,” Merida says. “Who do you know who would be available at such short notice? All the big names are too busy or too important, and they don’t want to cast another newcomer.” She pauses. “No offence.”

“It’s fine,” Belle says dismissively. She gets it. She’s been rising slowly but surely for the last ten years, appearing as secondary characters in smaller films, bagging herself a few arcs in TV shows, and finally getting a regular role in a popular sitcom. But this is her first time playing the main female lead in a feature film, and part of the reason the studio are taking a risk on her was the fame of her opposite lead.

The other part is the fact that the film’s director is Regina Mills, who has supported Belle’s career ever since that moment ten years ago when Rumford took a chance on her talent. It’s a kindness that Belle’s never forgotten; there’s no way she would have got to the place she’s in now without his input.

It makes something painful clench in Belle’s chest to think of Rumford. She hasn’t seen him since the wrap of the movie, and never really spoke to him again on set after he gave her the opportunity to have some lines. She can still remember how handsome he was back then, with his soft brown eyes, the way the spandex costume clung to him, the way he laughed when they were talking. It was such a brief moment, but it still feels special, particularly because it marks the beginning of Belle’s burgeoning career.

Unfortunately, it seems to have spelled the opposite for Rumford. Belle has followed his career from afar, always interested in how he’s doing, and has been unpleasantly shocked to see that the last ten years hasn’t treated him well. Shortly after the release of the space film, the tabloids exploded with the news that Killian Jones, of all people, had run off with Rumford’s wife of eighteen years, leaving him alone with his teenage son.

Belle was devastated. It’s silly, really, to feel as though she knows Rumford, when all they really had were a few nice minutes together, but it’s what she feels all the same. He doesn’t deserve that kind of misery. Belle feels an odd smugness that she knew all along that Killian wasn’t to be trusted, especially since he’s not even with Milah anymore - they split up after a couple of years, leaving Killian’s reputation irritatingly untarnished, while Rumford’s ex-wife faded back into obscurity when she failed to find another famous boyfriend.

Rumford hasn’t quite faded, but the legend is definitely less legendary these days. Since his divorce, he’s gained a reputation for being difficult to please on-set, and for squabbling with his co-stars. Perhaps understandably, producers are less anxious to work with him, and he’s been cast in fewer and fewer prominent films over the years. He snaps at journalists when they try to interview him, and his stint doing the rounds on talk shows ended abruptly when he made Anne Hathaway cry on live television. Belle couldn’t watch it.

It seems so clear to her that he’s hurting, but nobody else seems to be on his side. Killian is younger, more charming, less sarcastic, and fans adore him. Rumford built his legend by playing the villain in all the biggest blockbuster, and now he’s mocked by reporters calling him the true villain of Hollywood. It’s sad, so sad, because Belle saw a modest man willing to help out an aspiring actress, and now he’s washed-up, bitter and alone, while she’s successful all thanks to a gesture that she’ll never be able to repay.

Unless… Maybe she can. Mind racing, Belle says: “Merida?”

“Yeah?” Merida says. The good thing about Belle’s agent is that she’ll consider anything.

“What if I know someone who could step in? A big name and everything.”

Merida hums. “Who do you know that I don’t know?”

Belle hesitates. “Rumford Gold.” Then, quickly, before Merida can comment: “Well, I don’t exactly _know_ him, but we met a few years ago.”

“Rumford Gold,” Merida repeats, in a considering tone. “He’s not exactly up-and-coming.”

“He’s a legend,” Belle says, a little reprovingly.

“He _was_ a legend,” Merida corrects her, but not in a completely dismissive way. “I’ll get in touch with the producers, Belle. Gold’s not exactly known as a romantic lead. This would be a complete departure for him.”

Belle heaves her bag up a little higher on her wrist. “But a good opportunity,” she says firmly.

“True,” Merida says. “It would solve a lot of problems. I’ll take it to the studio.”

Belle clicks the phone closed with a sense of satisfaction.

*

Belle almost certainly would have been nervous no matter what was happening, the first time she walked onto the set for the first film where she would be the lead character, but there’s an extra frisson of anxiety knowing that Rumford Gold will be here.

Merida has told her that it took the producers an inordinate amount of persuasion to get him here, but there’s no denying that this could be a boost to his waning star, and so here he is: a romantic lead for the first time in his career. Belle is under no illusions that he’ll be happy to see her, or even remember who she is, but all the same, she’s excited to see him. Excited, and terrified.

She can admit, now, that she didn’t just respect him as an actor when she met him ten years ago. Ruby was right: she had the most enormous crush on him. It’s silly, really - he was married then, and even though he’s spent the last ten years alone, there’s no reason to still think of him the way she did then. But the prospect of seeing him again still makes her heart flutter.

Regina stands up when she walks into the room. She’s looking her usual groomed self, in a skin-tight blue dress and black heels, and she strides straight over to Belle.

“Belle,” she says crisply. “You’re here. Let’s not waste any more time.”

Belle’s pretty sure that means Regina’s pleased to have her on board. “Hi,” she says. She can’t help but notice that Rumford is standing a few feet away by the door, his back to her and Regina. He’s wearing jeans and a white shirt, his hair still shoulder-length but considerably greyer than the last time she saw him. With an effort, she forces herself to focus on Regina again.

Regina has clearly followed her line of sight. “You remember Rumford?” she says. “It was you who suggested him for this, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Belle says. She swallows. “He was the one who gave me my big break.”

“So you thought you’d return the favour,” Regina finishes for her. “I remember, of course.” She turns to look over at Rumford. “I just hope you’re right about him. He’s never played anything but villains before.”

Belle says firmly: “That doesn’t mean he can’t.”

“We’ll see,” Regina says. “There’s a reason no one likes working with him anymore.”

With that, she starts walking towards him. Belle, her heart in her mouth, follows her. She’s suddenly very conscious of what she’s wearing, of how much makeup she has on. It’s ridiculous, and she has to shake herself as it as they reach Rumford.

“Rum,” Regina says, which feels a little too familiar in Belle’s eyes, but perhaps that’s just jealousy talking. There’s the briefest pause, and then Rumford turns around.

There are more lines around his eyes than Belle remembers, but they’re still the same eyes. She can feel her mouth falling just slightly open, and closes it quickly. Rumford looks at her, his mouth set in a line.

“Regina,” he says calmly. Then: “Miss French.”

“Hi,” she replies, a little breathlessly.

He bows his head. “I hear it’s you I have to thank for this role.” Somehow, he makes it sound just slightly contemptuous, as though he has no time for her charity.

Belle is slightly taken aback. “I guess so,” she says uncertainly. She glances at Regina. “You’re doing us the favour, really.”

Rumford only raises his eyebrows.

All in all, it’s just slightly disappointing. It doesn’t get any easier as the day gets underway; disconcertingly, Belle finds that Rumford seems to be avoiding her. They only film one scene that day, because so much time is taken up with the hustle and bustle of meeting everyone, script edits, and general settling in. It’s not a scene that Rumford’s even in, so she can’t initiate a conversation that way either.

At the end of the day, Regina shows her her trailer. Despite the disappointing reaction from Rumford, Belle can’t help but feel a shiver of excitement at having her very own trailer for the first time. No matter what her co-star thinks, this is her chance. She’s never had this, and now she gets to.

And it’s Rumford it’s down to. Everything she has today is because he took a chance on her. It’s that that has Belle marching across to his trailer - just a few feet away from her own - after evening has fallen and the hubbub of the set has died down. She’s determined to build a good working relationship with him, both for the sake of the film and for herself.

She raps on the door. She knows he’s here, because there’s a light gleaming behind the net curtains of the trailer, but it still takes him several minutes to come and answer. When he does, he looks somewhat startled to see her.

“Miss French,” he says, a touch warily. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“You can call me Belle,” Belle says.

He acknowledges this with a nod. “Belle.”

There’s a pause. Belle says: “We’re going to be working together for a while, Mr Gold--”

“Rumford,” Rumford says, which she was hoping he would.

“Rumford,” she corrects with a smile. “I’d really like us to get along.”

For some reason, hearing her say it seems to concern him. There’s a frown on his face as he says: “You don’t have to say that, dearie. After all, I’m the villain.”

“Not this time,” Belle points out. She glances around. “Do you want to go for a walk? It’s a lovely evening.”

“Alright,” Rumford says slowly. He steps out of the trailer. He’s still wearing the same, slightly baggy white shirt he had on earlier, the sleeves rolled up his arms, and Belle has to deliberately force herself to look away. He’s looking extremely attractive.

They wander between the trailers. Belle is still looking around with some excitement; this is all fairly new to her. She says: “I’m so happy you agreed to do this.”

He looks sideways at her. “You may have noticed that I didn’t have a lot else to do, dearie.”

Belle shrugs, determined not to let his mood bring her down. “Still.” She hesitates. “This is going to sound really silly,” she warns him.

“I’m intrigued,” he says.

“You probably don’t remember me,” she goes on, “but ten years ago, we were in a film together. I was just an extra--”

“I remember you, Miss French,” Rumford interrupts.

“Belle,” Belle says reflexively.

“Belle French,” he repeats. “We spoke outside. I seem to recall you distracting me from my scene.”

She smiles, ridiculously pleased that he remembers. “I was completely starstruck,” she says.

“Look at us now,” Rumford says. “Now you’re the celebrity.”

“You’re still a legend,” Belle says. “Why do you think I wanted you to be in this film with me?”

“That is the question,” he replies thoughtfully. For a few minutes, they continue walking in silence. It’s a warm, clear evening, and it’s nice to share it with Rumford. He strolls beside her, apparently deep in thought.

They don’t speak about anything else particularly revealing. Belle chats about her career, about how much she’s enjoyed following his. Rumford is slow to respond, obviously wary, and it’s somewhat heartbreaking to see the change in him since the last time she saw him. The lightness she remembers in his eyes has been replaced with a world-weariness that hangs heavy on his brow. He’s reserved, aloof, but he still listens to her and puts in the odd polite comment every now and again.

At last, they come back to his trailer. Belle stops in front of the door. “This was nice,” she says, beaming at him.

“It was,” Rumford replies. He sounds a little surprised at his own words. “It’s been a pleasure, Belle.”

“I’d like to do it again,” she presses. Rumford nods, and Belle, shocking herself with her own daring, darts forward to lay a soft kiss to his warm cheek.

He stiffens, but doesn’t pull away, and Belle returns to her position in front of him. She says, smiling: “Goodnight, Rumford.”

“Goodnight, Belle.”

The next few weeks are a whirlwind of enjoyment for Belle. By day, she’s an actress, shooting scenes, milling around with the extras and production team, studying scripts and discussing them with Regina. She loves the buzz of being on set, and she’s particularly inspired by the film - that’s one of the reasons she was so excited to get the part. She and Rumford have their first scenes together, and the tension is exhilarating. The character he’s playing does, now she thinks about it, have some villainous tendencies, especially at the beginning of the film, and Rumford plays them up marvellously. He delivers each line so carefully, as though he’s crafted it himself, and Belle finds herself responding to him completely naturally. Sometimes she feels like she’s barely acting at all, as her character first loathes, and then grows to admire, her romantic opposite.

She catches Regina watching her with raised eyebrows once or twice, but nothing is said. Belle assumes that this is because the work they’re producing is incredible. She watches the scenes they’ve filmed over and over, amazed by how good she and Rumford are together, bouncing off each other as though they’ve done it for years.

And then, at the end of the day, when all the fuss has died down and everyone has retreated to their respective trailers, she trots over to knock on Rumford’s door, and they go for a walk.

They’ve been lucky that the weather has been so fine, so that they can spend hours together, just talking. Over the days, Rumford begins to unbend, contributing more to their conversations, and even telling jokes. Belle is delighted by how interesting, how funny, how unique his perspective is. Sometimes they chat about menial things, like celebrity gossip, or funny things that have happened on set. Sometimes Belle finds herself deep in discussion about politics, or philosophy, or current events. Sometimes she talks about her family, her friends, and Rumford tells her about his son. Once, he even mentions his ex-wife, although only in passing, and after he’s said her name he looks as though he wishes he hadn’t. Belle is careful not to ask. She finds herself laughing often as she strolls beside him through the trailers, and always feels sorry to leave him when they return to his trailer.

It’s glorious, getting to know him, but it’s also _hard_. Belle can admit to herself, now, that the crush she had on him ten years ago isn’t going away anytime soon. The more she gets to know him, the more time she wants to spend with him. She’s never met anyone she feels so connected to; he’s not like the boys she’s dated before. He’s different, unusual, mature.

She has to keep reminding herself that they’re not dating. Sometimes… sometimes it feels like they are.

Regina approaches her five weeks in. Belle’s sitting in one of the cast areas, drinking a cup of tea, and pretending not to be watching Rum - somehow, he’s become Rum to her as well - as he talks to one of the sound engineers. She’s feeling particularly nervous today, and it seems as though Regina is a little apprehensive as well.

“Belle,” she says in greeting, sitting down opposite Belle without having been asked.

“Hi, Regina,” Belle says cautiously. She’s learnt to be wary of Regina’s sudden approaches. “Are you okay?”

Regina doesn’t even acknowledge the question. “It’s a big day today,” she says. “You know why.”

Belle does know why. Today is the day she’s been both dreading and looking forward to since almost the moment she thought of having Rum as her romantic opposite. For the first time since filming began, she and Rumford will be in a scene together that involves more than just incredible dialogue and sizzling orchestrated chemistry. They’ll be filming an actual romance scene, albeit quite a simple one.

Their first kiss. Belle can’t deny she’s been thinking about it. She just wishes it could be a little more… real.

“Belle, this needs to be good,” Regina says frankly. “A lot of people have reservations about seeing Rumford as anything other than a villain. I’m not sure he’s even so much as looked at a woman on-screen before.”

“They don’t know what he’s capable of,” Belle says obstinately. “He’s an incredible actor.”

Regina holds up her manicured hands. “I’m not denying it,” she says. “I’m sure he can pull it off.” She waits. “Can you?”

“What?” Belle says, frowning. “What do you mean?” Her heart, for some reason, is beating particularly quickly.

“I see the way you look at him,” Regina says flatly. “I’ve known Rum a long time, Belle. He changed when Milah left him. I don’t want you getting your hopes up for someone so twisted inside.”

“He’s not twisted!” Belle begins hotly, but Regina interrupts her.

“I don’t care if you get your heart broken,” she says. “But if you let your imagination run away with you, you’ll ruin the film. We’ve done well so far. We could walk away with some Oscars. But not if you destroy yourself over someone who never learned how to love.”

It’s not a very nice way to walk into her first on-screen kiss with Rumford, and Belle is feeling sick by the time the shoot comes around that afternoon. She wishes Regina had never approached her. Is Regina right? Has Rumford never learned how to love? Milah has been so rarely mentioned that it’s hard for her to get a gauge on how he felt about her. She knows he loves his son, at least - Neal is the only member of his family he really speaks about, and it’s always with fondness.

No. Belle puts the uncertainty firmly to the back of her mind. Regina is an intelligent, perceptive woman, but she’s also hard around the edges. She’s not likely to notice the softer parts of Rumford, the way that Belle has, during their long conversations in the evenings. And besides, no matter what her feelings, there’s no way Belle is going to put the movie in jeopardy because of them. It’s too important to her.

She wonders if Rum is feeling nervous as well. He looks confident enough, in a tight maroon shirt and dark pants. At this point in the story, Belle’s character is supposed to be fighting her attraction to the leading man. They’re business rivals, and that rivalry is getting in the way of their budding romantic feelings. Belle likes the scene because there’s no dialogue: she just sees him, walking along a corridor and texting, and realises that she can’t let him leave without telling him how she feels. But instead of doing that, instead of speaking, she just kisses him, pouring all her emotions into one physical gesture that says everything.

That’s how the writers explained it to her. Now, in light of the way she feels about Rum, she’s afraid it will say too much.

They spend a few minutes setting up the shot. Rumford walks along the set, his head bowed over his phone. They haven’t spoken about the kiss at all, and Belle is suddenly scared that she’ll embarrass herself. He’s approaching the point at which she’s supposed to burst out, and her feet are frozen to the floor. She can’t do it.

“Cut!” Regina cries, obviously frustrated.

“Sorry, sorry,” Belle groans. She’s annoyed with herself; she missed her cue. Rumford’s eyes are unfathomable.

They try again. Everything is put into place. Rumford walks down the corridor, and this time Belle does rush out at the right moment - only to trip over her own foot.

All in all, they film the scene seven times before Regina finally calls for a break. Belle is beyond frustration. For some reason, she can’t make herself do it - she either misses her cue, stops before she gets to him, or just freezes. Regina is fuming. Rumford looks distant, as though she’s just some immature child who doesn’t know how to be professional. Everyone is tired and irritated, and it’s all her fault.

“I’m sorry,” she tells Regina, for the eight hundredth time.

“Get out of your own head, Belle,” Regina snaps. “Go and get some fresh air.”

Belle is practically crying as she flees the set. There’s a quiet spot round the back of the studios where she likes to go if she wants to be alone, and it’s there that she heads. She’s so upset with herself! All her promises to herself not to allow her feelings for Rum to cloud her judgement and spoil her first leading role, and now she can’t bring herself to kiss him because - because what? Because it’s not real? It’s ridiculous. She’s supposed to be a professional.

“Belle.” Rumford’s soft voice makes her start. She dashes unshed tears out of her eyes, turning around.

“Rum,” she says, her voice hitching just slightly. She pauses. “I’m so sorry,” she says quietly.

“Don’t be,” he replies quietly. “I understand.”

Her heart breaks for him then, because she suddenly realises that he thinks he does understand. He thinks she doesn’t like him, thinks that she doesn’t _want_ to kiss him and that’s why she keeps messing up the scene.

“But it’s not that!” she bursts out. Rumford stares at her, and she realises how little sense she’s making. Her cheeks are flaming. “It’s not that I don’t want to do it,” she amends, and then blushes even more when she hears how that sounds.

Rumford looks bemused. “Alright,” he says carefully.

“I want to do the scene, I want to get it right,” Belle says passionately. “It’s just so hard to kiss you like that when--” She stops, biting her lip.

Rum is suddenly a lot closer to her than she thought he was before. It looks almost as though he’s holding his breath; there’s a strange light in his soft brown eyes. “When?” he asks, his voice gentle and oddly hopeful.

Belle pauses. There’s something momentous happening, and she can’t quite put her finger on what it is, but she has to still her pulsing heart, slow her racing brain down just enough to understand, because there’s a revelation here, something just on the edge of her consciousness, like an epiphany--

“Oh,” she says softly. “ _Oh_.” She looks at him, her eyes shining. “You like me too.”

Almost as soon as she’s said it, something veiled drops down over Rumford’s eyes, something fearful and lonely. Belle remembers that the last woman he trusted left him for a younger actor, that no one thinks the typecast villain could ever play a romantic lead.

“Miss French--” he begins, but she interrupts him. Not with words - there have been enough words. They’ve gone backwards and forwards with words all afternoon. Belle uses the one thing she’s supposed to have done in their scene hours ago, and the one thing she couldn’t before because it wasn’t real then.

She kisses him.

Rumford’s lips are soft beneath hers. He’s still as a statue, his skin cool and his hair a gentle tickle against the sides of her face. She can feel his shock, coursing through him, rooting him to the spot, but she’s not deterred. He likes her too. She knows it.

Slowly, so slowly that it’s painful, his hands reach up to encircle her body. Belle can feel herself being drawn in, nestling against his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin against her chest. His fingers brush against the base of her neck, sending shockwaves down her spine.

He kisses her back. She can pinpoint the exact moment his lips start to move against hers, so gently that it feels as though her heart will burst with it. Her blood is pumping, and she finds herself pressing her groin closer to him as the kiss deepens. His tongue slides into her mouth, and she kisses him more passionately. He’s responding with equal fervour, fingers tightening around her waist and the back of her neck, holding her tight against him.

“Well, well.” Regina’s clear, slightly amused voice cuts through the air. Belle and Rumford jump apart from one another immediately. “Do you think you could recreate that in front of the cameras?”

Rumford glances at Belle. There’s a slightly panicked look in his eyes, as though he’s afraid she’ll change her mind at any moment. Belle reaches blindly for him, takes his hand in hers.

“Yes,” she says boldly, lifting her chin. Regina is wrong about Rumford. No one as gentle, as afraid as he is in this moment, could ever have forgotten how to love.

Regina doesn’t say anything else; she just turns and walks away, her heels clicking on the floor as she disappears inside the studio. There’s a brief silence, as Belle holds tightly to Rumford’s hand and enjoys the sensation of its warmth in hers.

“Belle,” Rumford says, his voice heavy with emotion. “I’ll understand if that was…” He hesitates. “A passing fancy.”

Belle turns to him, a little shocked. “It wasn’t!” she cries. She squeezes his fingers. “You may see yourself as the villain, Rum, but to me you’ve always been the leading man. I want this. I want to be with you.”

He doesn’t answer, but the way he captures her mouth with his own with a groan says it all. Belle gasps as he kisses her, his hands like fire on her body. She has an overwhelming feeling of _rightness_ , of being in exactly the right place at the right time. Rumford is warm in her arms, his kiss sending sparks of electricity through her, and there’s nowhere else she ought to be, nothing else she should be doing.

He breaks away from her, bringing his mouth to her ear. “I want to be with you too, dearie,” he murmurs, and then kisses the side of her neck. Belle shivers delightedly.

By the time they return to the studio, Belle’s lips are swollen from kissing. She’s beaming from ear to ear, overwhelmed by the sheer joy of holding Rumford’s hand, of having him by her side.

“Ready?” Regina says crisply. Belle just nods.

The scene is already set up, waiting for the leading actors to step in and perform. Belle is hardly aware of the cameras, the technicians standing around. All she can see is Rumford, bent over his phone as he walks absent-mindedly along. Maybe she’s biased, but even that simple action seems like an incredible performance.

There’s no missing her cue this time. When Rum gets to the right spot, Belle throws herself out after him. She doesn’t need to imagine herself in the place of her character, doesn’t need to think about the role at all. It’s pure Belle, thinking about Rumford, about the way she feels about him.

He turns, his expression of surprise and confusion totally convincing. Belle is breathless as she puts her hands on his forearms, practically skidding to a halt in front of him. Rumford is too much of a professional to break character even for a second, but Belle can’t help but let the tiniest smile creep onto her face. It doesn’t matter. It fits what she’s about to do.

She can see his eyes twinkling. Her heart flips over.

It doesn’t feel difficult at all this time. She closes her eyes and leans forward.

*

_Eight months later_

“This is crazy,” Ruby mutters. “Belle. This is crazy!”

They’re standing together on the red carpet, surrounded by hordes of cheering people and flashing cameras. Ruby looks sensational in a low-cut black dress that sweeps the floor, while Belle has opted for a knee-length green silk number coupled with sky-high peach stilettos. Behind them, there’s an enormous, twelve-foot poster of Belle’s face, her eyes downcast and a small half-smile lifting her cheeks. Rumford’s silhouette is behind her, his nose brushing her temple.

She’d promised Ruby she would bring her to the premier, and it’s been lovely having her best friend at her side. But Belle is looking out for her co-star as well. It’s been a whole five hours since she left him lying in her bed, a sated smile on his handsome face.

She knows when he’s arrived, because a new roar surges through the crowd like a tidal wave. Before she even sees him, she’s turning around with a grin, ignoring Ruby’s amused mutter of: “You’re ridiculous!”

He looks delicious in a pale grey tuxedo, his shoes dark and gleaming with polish, his hair tucked behind his ears. He’s smiling, which is a new look for him on the red carpet. Belle has to stop herself from running to him, holding back only because of the height of her shoes.

“Rum!” she calls, and his eyes find her. He’s smiling, and her heart thuds.

Neal is with him, looking especially dapper in a dark blue suit and his hair slicked back. He and Belle have become good friends over the months that she’s been dating his father, and he’s the first one to reach her, pulling her into a warm hug. Rumford is held back by the throngs, desperate for a photo or an autograph. His popularity has gone through the roof recently. The public like the idea of him in a romantic role.

So does Belle.

He gets to her at last, the smile lighting up his face. The paparazzi are going mad, cameras clicking in their faces, but Belle is barely aware of any of it. They call her the beauty that tamed the beast in the papers, print photographs of the two of them holding hands, of Belle laughing and Rumford smiling. Milah managed to get an interview out of it, warning Belle off in faux concern. Belle doesn’t care about any of it.

“Hi,” she says breathlessly. Rum takes her hand. They hardly go a moment without touching, even after all this time.

“Hello, Miss French,” he teases. It’s a little game they play.

“Mr Gold,” she responds, beaming. He touches her face, thumb grazing her cheekbone, and Belle catches her breath.

Ruby strides up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder. “Hey, lovebirds,” she says, flashing a smile at them. “You guys are insane. This place is insane. Can we go watch the movie now?”

Rumford slides his arm around Belle’s waist. He and Ruby have always got on well; they often hang out with her and her girlfriend Dorothy on their evenings off from the promotional tour. “After you,” he says.

They walk up the red carpet together, hand in hand. Belle beams as she poses for photographs, watches the crowds around them. The film has had an enormous hype. Belle already knows it’s going to be amazing. The chemistry between her and Rumford is as sizzling on-screen as it is in real life.

When they get to the doors, Belle stops, looking out at what she and Rumford have created together. This is everything she ever wanted, all those years ago when she was so convinced that she didn’t have what it takes to be a big-name actor. She can remember the look in Rum’s eyes, when he believed in her, took a chance on her, allowed her to speak out when she was nothing more than an extra in one of his films. She had been overwhelmed by his stardom, and now she’s here herself.

“I love you,” she says. It’s not the first time, but it still gives her a thrill to say it. Rumford smiles, squeezing her hand.

“And I love you,” he says gently. Belle’s heart flutters in pleasure.

The crowd roars. He kisses her. And then they walk inside the theatre, together.


End file.
